


three little birds sat on my window (and they told me i don't need to worry)

by emotionalism



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, but i love them so here we are, this is basically just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalism/pseuds/emotionalism
Summary: Fatou and Kieu My and Saturday mornings.
Relationships: Fatou Jallow & Kieu My Vu, Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu
Comments: 15
Kudos: 110





	three little birds sat on my window (and they told me i don't need to worry)

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from "put your records on" by corinne bailey rae aka the song that was literally written for fatou (i am convinced idc that it was written 15 years ago)

A fog has settled over Berlin, the tempting first beginnings of spring blanketing them and blinding them from seeing through the window. In the clouded, filtered light, everything is gentler. 

Kieu My has her face buried in the space between Fatou’s head and shoulder, her soft breathing tickling Fatou’s neck. They are in Fatou’s bed, a cocoon of blankets and silent promises of more mornings like this in the future. Fatou traces these promises onto Kieu My’s arm.

Kieu My hums, nuzzling further into Fatou. Fatou stills, worried she may have disturbed her from her sleep. 

“I love you,” Kieu My mumbles, so quietly that it is almost inaudible. The words are sleepy and familiar, but they still slip out of Kieu My like a poorly-kept secret, like there is no other option but to give the words life and invite them into the air. And despite the familiarity of the words, despite the fact that they have filled the empty spaces of their conversations ever since they laid under LED galaxies, Fatou’s heart jumps. 

Kieu My’s unconscious murmurs join the choirs of early morning birds peeping from outside the window. A sign, Fatou has come to realize, that she is soon to wake. 

Sure enough, Kieu My’s arms tighten around her, and her eyes crack open.

“Good morning,” Fatou smiles, peppering the taller girl’s face with kisses. 

“Very good,” Kieu My amends, tilting her head so that the next time Fatou kisses her, it is on her lips. When Kieu My moves so she’s laying on her back, Fatou follows her, covering Kieu My’s body with her own -- their early morning call-and-response. 

These are some of Fatou’s favorite moments, when the time is honey in their hands and the only thing she can feel is Kieu My, and the only thing Kieu My can see is her. Sometimes, it feels like Fatou is floating away from her body, fighting to get back down but the wind keeps pushing her further and further up. Kieu My grounds her, makes her feel attached to something real and solid. 

The calm motion of Kieu My’s lungs expanding and deflating slowly rocks Fatou back to sleep, but a shuffling alerts Fatou that something in her world is shifting. When she opens her eyes again, she can see it’s just Kieu My reaching to get her phone. Within a few seconds, gentle singing fills the air around them. The playlist cover only briefly flashed into Fatou’s line of sight, but she’s fairly certain that she could see the drawing of a “Axolotlgirl and Zombiewoman” that Fatou had asked Nora to draw for their 1 month anniversary. (Said anniversary was greatly contested as “ridiculous” by many of their friends, to no avail. After that, the two decided not to tell them that this was actually their second 1 month anniversary that they were celebrating, since Kieu My insisted that they commemorate both the first time they got together and their reunion, even if that meant back-to-back celebrations on the 15th and the 17th.) Fatou smiles into Kieu My’s hoodie -- well, it’s actually Fatou’s hoodie, but Kieu My has been the unofficial owner of the Axolotl Abipulli ever since it magically disappeared from Fatou’s room one night. 

The ending notes of some Frank Ocean song that Fatou can’t quite place ring out into the room. 

“Love this song,” Fatou mumbles, yawning. She shivers when she feels Kieu My’s hands journey up her back, seeking the warmth of Fatou’s slightly above average body temperature. 

“Well, I am always thinking about you,” Kieu My says softly, scratching hearts onto Fatou’s shoulders and then smoothing them over with her fingertips.

“I wish I could write something as beautiful as this,” Fatou sighs. 

Kieu My’s brow furrows. “You already have,” she states, and when Fatou begins to open her mouth to protest, she is cut off by a kiss. 

“Speaking of,” Kieu My says between kisses. “When are you going to write me a song, Ms. Jallow?”

Early morning is quickly lapsing into midday, the fog dissipating as the sun climbs higher into the sky and crests over Fatou’s curtains, filling the room with light and placing a rainbow on the part of Kieu My’s midriff where the hoodie has ridden up. 

“I did,” Fatou responds, tracing the colors on Kieu My’s stomach. She splays her fingers on the empty canvas before her, watching as the rainbow covers both of them. 

“Oh great,” Kieu My groans. “A made you a playlist, and you wrote me a song.”

“It’s a really great playlist,” Fatou laughs, picking up Kieu My’s hand and kissing her fingertips. Kieu My rolls her eyes. 

“Whatever you say, girl,” Kieu My pauses. And then, more quietly, “I can’t believe you wrote me a song.” 

“I wrote you a song,” Fatou repeats.

“Is that the one you were working on with Ava?” Kieu My asks. Fatou’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes bright and a smile threatening to spread on her face.

“How do you know about that?” Fatou asks, watching as a faint red hue blooms on Kieu My’s cheeks. The cherry-cheeked girl is soon hidden from her view, head buried under the sheets.

“I… Well, okay, um-” she starts her voice muffled. She moves to face Fatou again, and Fatou leans forward so that they are on the same pillow. Kieu My tries to avert her gaze from Fatou, but the magnetic force of Fatou’s smile is too large to be ignored, and Kieu My quickly finds herself looking directly at the grinning girl only a few inches away from her. 

“I may have been listening to you singing when you and Ava were at the flat. From behind the door,” Kieu My whispers, rolling Fatou’s shirt between her fingers. “I was trying to be quiet, and then Zoe called me, and I almost had a heart attack because I thought you would hear.”

Fatou remembers that night -- the first night they had a conversation that lasted longer than a few lines. Back when she couldn’t imagine Kieu My could ever like her, back when she thought that her feelings for Kieu My couldn’t take up more space than they did in that moment, with Kieu My looking her directly in the eyes. 

“You’re so…” Fatou says, searching for the words. When she can’t find them, she stops looking and closes the distance between them. There are galaxies hidden under the covers and inside Kieu My’s words on mornings like these. 

They fade back into silence when they separate, their noses touching and their limbs tangled like the star-laden sheets they are lying in.

Fatou almost wishes it was still winter so she could freeze this morning, hold it now and forever and stop the sun from crawling upwards in the sky. Fatou will never have this moment again -- it is here now, but soon it is gone. But maybe there is comfort in this place where they exist, where each morning, Kieu My holds Fatou a different way and says a different, beautiful thing while they lay under a sky with ever-changing stars. A whole life of frozen mornings.


End file.
